


the business of good things

by onnari



Category: Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:20:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23971474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onnari/pseuds/onnari
Summary: "Would you like a drink of your own to celebrate a job well done? On the house.”“Well in that case, I’ll have something with a little kick,” Aerith says thoughtfully, studying her, chin in hand. "You seem like you'd know something about that."
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Tifa Lockhart
Comments: 11
Kudos: 192





	the business of good things

**Author's Note:**

> An earlier meeting under different circumstances.

Meeting Aerith feels inevitable, but the night their paths finally cross it’s the aftermath of a wedding, Aerith wearing flowers in her hair that perfectly match the wedding’s decor. Tifa is working the bar as usual, looking after the afterparty, when Aerith swoops up onto a stool.

“A member of the wedding party?” Tifa asks, even though she’s sitting alone.

“No, but I did arrange the flowers.” The woman smiles. “I’m Aerith.”

“Tifa. I handled the open bar.” And somehow when they get to talking, they realize it’s not the first occasion they’ve unknowingly coordinated for, graduation celebrations, adoption parties, and of course more weddings making up the list.

It’s more than enough to make Tifa sentimental, leaning against the bar. “Always have to make sure we properly celebrate the good moments when they come around. Would you like a drink of your own to celebrate a job well done? On the house.”

“Well in that case, I’ll have something with a little kick,” Aerith says thoughtfully, studying her, chin in hand. "You seem like you'd know something about that." Tifa can feel a faint heat coming to her cheeks, but then the wedding party is calling for her again, bringing her back to her job.

It’s a little unfortunate, thinking Aerith is not the type to stick around long. She has that look about her like she has places to be and things to see to, glancing over her shoulder now and then. So Tifa’s surprised when Aerith makes a loop of the bar, lingering by the darts and the jukebox, making small talk and beating out a lot of the regulars.

“Last call,” Tifa says. “Want a night cap?”

“Sure,” Aerith says with another entirely too disarming smile. And when Tifa places Aerith’s drink down, she is slow to pull away. Feels Aerith’s fingers against her own. A feeling Tifa takes with her even after she closes up. 

A week passes until Aerith reappears, but that is the longest she stays away, her visits coming closer and closer together the more she comes by, always asking for a new drink as if she’s determined to test the extent of Tifa’s bartending skills. And while Aerith sips at whatever drink Tifa has whipped up with Aerith in mind, Tifa asks after the flowers Aerith’s brought with her, the meaning behind them.

Eventually she places one into Tifa’s cocktail and offers the drink back to her. Tifa takes a sip in surprised approval and Aerith steals the glass back, Tifa unable to look away from the pull of Aerith's lips as she drains the glass fully.

She catches Tifa staring and winks until Tifa fears her face is turning scarlet, that she's drawing out all of Tifa's most visceral responses.

Aerith's all teasing until she’s not. Genuine in the moments that matter most. 

“How are you holding up?” she asks when Tifa’s had bad news.

“Me?” Tifa laughs, a little awkward. Not used to the kind of question. “Fine.”

Aerith tilts her head. “Just fine? I think we can do better than that.”

So they go out, Tifa swept up in Aerith’s headlong nature. How she welcomes, even encourages, a little bullshit with her natural instinct for adventure. And if Tifa can help throw off some assholes who come around to mess with Aerith, Tifa finds the trade more than fair for what she's getting out of Aerith's company.

Aerith has the idea to return to the bar afterwards for a night cap, encouraging Tifa as always to fill up a glass with her so she does not have to drink alone. 

Tifa can't remember laughing as much around a person. “You’re a bit of a lush, do you know that?”

“Or have you considered I just really like the bartender?” Aerith says without even a second’s hesitation. Without even a hint of embarrassment.

She reaches out then as Tifa freezes in surprise, tucking a flower behind Tifa’s ear and lets her hand linger. Unconsciously, Tifa lifts her own, holding Aerith's in place.

Aerith’s hands could fool you at first. Smooth and soft to the touch, no callouses unlike Tifa’s own. But they don’t tell the story of the trouble she’s capable of, the trouble she seeks out too, as if to say even when the world is out for her she’ll leave a mark on it before she goes.

Tifa’s eyes fall for a moment, landing on Aerith’s glass, drained and abandoned on the countertop, and she almost mourns the thought of wiping it clear of Aerith’s fingerprints. And that’s when she really knows the extent of the trouble she's in. But Tifa knows trouble, too, and she isn’t afraid of flirting with a little more.

So they meet in the middle until their breaths are one, just a brush of lips as light as anything. Then Aerith pauses, such an impossible tease. Has Tifa get up and head for the back, Aerith close behind even without an invitation, making a show of jumping the swinging gate, giggling but resolute when she crowds up against Tifa’s side as soon as they’re out of sight.

Aerith is all warmth and softness, but she is not gentle in her hurry now, catching at Tifa’s bottom lip and tugging, her eyes just open enough for Tifa to see the gleam there.

And Aerith’s hands, as likely to be clasped in prayer as anything, make Tifa send up her own senseless prayer of thanks, the way Aerith smooths them through her hair, fingers sliding down and then up, and Tifa can feel the pressure in her scalp, the pull irresistible.

“Sweet,” Aerith murmurs into her mouth, and then she is kissing her fully, a little sloppy and teasing but mostly insistent. They get so worked up that Tifa runs hot, Aerith chasing down the beads of sweat that run down Tifa's neck. Nestled there she grins up at Tifa, her mouth rosy and as pretty as a flower.

And there are new fingerprints on Tifa’s heart as simple as that. More sweetness to add to her life. She’s in the business of collecting whatever goodness she can find lately.

The next night when Aerith comes back to her, Tifa already has a glass waiting, and Aerith accepts it with a kiss.

It makes sense, Tifa thinks aloud—the two of them. Both women of some reputation in their neighborhood, trying to do good wherever their lives intersect with others. Getting involved with other people’s problems and lives just as easily as they get involved with each other. The world may be complicated, but between just the two of them it really isn't.

“Think about it,” Aerith answers, there in the bed they’ve shared together. “What do people need for every occasion?” She pulls away just enough for Tifa to see her grin. “Booze and flowers. Of course we go together.”

Tifa only tugs her closer and pulls the sheets back up around them.


End file.
